I missed my blog’s birthday. It turned four on the 27th of August.

I feel terrible. Luckily, my blog doesn’t have feelings.

Lots of things have happened in four years. I’m glad you, my readers, have been here to share some of it with me.

This blog literally saved my career. Your comments and emails have been funny, sad, enlightening, and all sorts of other adjectives. You guys, my readers, are a big reason I’m still here riding the bus.

Thanks for being here, and for reading.


“Male assaulted. PD on scene” reads the MDT. It’s raining and traffic is heavy, so I have to actually pay attention to the roads instead of the book I was reading.

I’m reading the new Grisham book, Gray Mountain. I can’t recommend it yet.

We finally make it on scene to find a guy in his early thirties standing with local law enforcement in the living room of his apartment. He has blood streaming down his face, and he is holding a towel against his head.

Shaq is taking the lead on this one. He’s going to be in Paramedic school soon, and needs to get used to assessing patients. Plus, he is really good at it. Good enough that I rarely have any questions for my patients, or tips for my partner.

After sensing an opening in the conversation with local law enforcement and the injured gentleman, Shaq breaks in:

“Man, what happened to your head?”

“That bitch hit me with a smoovie!”

“A smoothie?”

“Yeah! A smoovie!”

A glance at the gentlemen with the firearms confirms the previous point: they have no idea what is going on either, and how a cold fruit emulsion could have caused such a wound.

“She hit you in the head with a smoothie?”

“Yeah! I said that already!”

“But how did it cut you like that?”

“Cuz it’s heavy, man! Damn!”

“But, it’s soft, and it’s in a styrofoam cup or something.”

“Naw, man! It’s heavy!”

“A smoothie is heavy?”

“Yeah, man. Heavy. One of them things you smoove your clothes with!”

“One of the things you smooth your clothes with?”


“But, I don’t really…I’m confu-oh! Do you mean an IRON?”



I can’t think of what to name my new partner. So I came up with Shaq.

He’s like 8 inches taller than me, older than me, and likes basketball. He said he wanted his blog name to be Shaq, so it is.

So that settles it then.

I still miss Slimm.

But this guy is pretty cool.

Where are y’all coming from?

Lately I have noticed more and more traffic coming to my blog, and its Facebook page. Somehow, ‘likes’ on my Facebook page have more than doubled in the past few months.

Not that I’m complaining or anything, just curious to know where everyone is coming from.

I thought it was just Flash and my mom that were reading this blog, but I’ve been proven wrong again.


“What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing. She’s got the tachylawdys.”

“Geez. Take her to triage.”


‘Tachylawdy’ is a thing down here. Along with sick rags, but that’s a whole different post. Never have I seen tachylawdy present in a sick patient. Not once. The only times I have seen tachylawdy present in the field are:

  • anxiety
  • doesn’t want to be at work
  • [pick your male family member] is getting arrested
  • anxiety because of being at work
  • getting pulled over

I have never seen a patient present with the tachylawdys without the presence of other concerned family members. Nor have I ever seen a male patient present with the tachylawdys. I have, however, seen the tachylawdys present in female family members that were present while I was caring for another person, be it male or female.

Basically, you walk into a house and find a female, usually with the back of her hand on her forehead, always with her head turned away from you, eyes closed, not a damn thing wrong with her:

“Oh, lawdylawdylawdylawdylawdy…. OOOOOOOH, lawdylawdylawdylawdylawdylawdyheppmelawdylawdylawdy…”


Bradyjeezus now, is much, much more serious.